Penny for your thoughts
by De rien bitches
Summary: Just a tease and taste, for a smutty flic about the "other" guys in Gotham, almost heavy with Alfred OC but then later Victor and Butch
1. Chapter 1

"...Wait, wait, wait..." He was silenced with a grind of her pelvis, making him groan. His hands fell from her shoulders where they'd pushed her back slightly braking their kiss only seconds ago. His fingers were now dinging into her hips. They left her hips to pull at her top when she started whispering come on's in various languages. "I have waited, I have waited to taste you...to truly appreciate the flavor of your skin...your manhood..." At least he believed that was what she had said. She was rather distracting, especially her scent. He couldn't get enough of it, and at the same time wished it out of his head completely. He'd thought to himself over and over, she won't say yes, this isn't really going to happen. It couldn't be, he wouldn't let go past friendly conversation. It would be so simple but nothing about her was. And the way she had performed, how she had handled herself. He could see her in his minds eye, the fluid motion of her muscles. The beautiful body he was now holding. He desperately wanted to see more of it.

But the spell of lust was broken when her hands move to undo his trousers. "WAIT!" He shouted in a half strangled voice. It made his voice even more gravely, which at the present, was the most sensual thing she had ever heard. Even if he was trying to stop the sex she had been wishing for since she first heard him speak. She rolled her eyes as she was pushed away once more. This time she didn't struggle. Instead of fighting and bargaining until he finally made up his mind, she walked away.

They had stumbled through servant entrance, various halls to his personal quarters like two horny teenagers. Her eyes were closed for the most part focusing on the sensation of pleasure and passion of the moment. While tuning out everything Alfred was saying she looked around, taking in the space he called home. She was most drawn to the books, they made her smile, having read many of them. Whatever he was saying was winding down, or she hoped it was so she interrupted.

"Can I just lay down somewhere?" She hated being so frustrated, she rarely cried when she did it was out of frustration. Physically she remained calm, and her voice hadn't betrayed any emotion, but her eyes were starting to shine with tears. Making an attempt on his life would be less awkward then her bursting into tears at this point. She believed Alfred was still half expecting her to do just that. She knew he noticed, his whole demeanor changed, imperceptibly to anyone less observant then the two of them.

But like most men didn't know why she was close to crying. She felt bad for him, truly. All the thoughts that must be spinning in circles in his head. It was his fault, he had to make it complicated. "Somewhere out of the way, dark..." She quickly looked away avoiding making eye contact. She squinted up at the light hanging above them while quickly finishing her sentence. "...if it's not a bother, the light is hurting my eyes." She refused to look at him, he made no attempt to force her to do so. Just stared, and stared at her. When heavy silence continued for a few heart beats she rushed to push past him. "I'm just gonna go.." He caught her arm in his strong grip. Her jaw tightened and nose flared in anger. Realizing his mistake he let go immediately.

"No... please" It was almost a whisper. His voice was strained, all that escaped his kiss swollen lips were raspy whispers. As if he had been yelling at her instead of kissing her "... please if... you would..." 'Still not looking at you!' she thought while grinding her teeth, folding her arms across her chest in response to his attempt to touch her hand. She was happy for the anger, she could focus on it. He cleared his throat and stood a little taller. Alfred her would be lover was gone, the butler was now standing next to her. Even if his coat was laying on the hall floor and his shirt mostly unbuttoned, cufflinks and tie Lord knows where. Or that her bra and panties were gone and she had had to readjust her top so her breasts were no longer exposed.

"I must insist on you staying the night, or calling a cab for you." She's done some shots but was far from drunk. None the less she knew she shouldn't drive. She was a little short with him as she answered.

"I'm not leaving my bike here!"

"Well then, if you would follow me... I will bring you the rest of your..." He swallowed hard, making her smile. "...things once you are settled." She replayed the last hour, hours, days in her head while they walked in silence. "Will this be alright Miss?" She snorted at the Miss, and a smile twitched the corn of his mouth.

"Could you lend me a shirt to sleep in?" His eyes darken at the mental image of her wearing his night clothes. When he returned she was sitting in the same place on the bed. He set the pristinely folded bed clothes next to her and said good night. She did not reply.

There was no way she was wearing those ridiculous pajamas, so she opted for going O'natural. She knew they should have gone to her place! She was trying to make him comfortable, if his wayward son, or charge...or whatever were to call...or need him...

It was all his fault really. He came back to see her. Even though she had no more information, Cat was too smart to use her as a contact again. He had stuck around til the end of her sparring match. He said he barely recognized her. Was he so hang up...so bent on self torture ... Fuck It!

She might as well get herself off, she had already begun to cry form frustration. First, she did her best to sooth herself. Taking her mind off the situation by tickling her skin then smoothing away the tingles by massaging, rubbing her erogenous zones. Thinking back to his touch, his smell lingering on her skin. For some reason her moans and whimpers of pleasure sounded sad and tearful. She thrashed and shuttered, she was still crying, harder even. Which only caused her frustration to mount, completely absorbed in her request for satisfaction she was oblivious to the piercing blue eyes watching her every move. She stopped, suddenly giving up, she pulled a sheet to cover her sweat slicked body to keep from getting chilled. She wasn't sure how long it took to regained control of her shuddering breath. Once she did she waited silently, in the dark, for her almost lover to drop off her bra and panties. She amused herself wondering if he would launder and iron them first. She hadn't a clue he'd been watching, wanting just as much as her, for her to reach her release. He had barely blinked, remaining completely still...watching, wanting and waiting.

48 hours ago...


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred wasn't Looking for Bruce, strictly speaking. He hadn't been 'looking' for his charge for the last few nights. He was just sitting quietly at a bar of a less than upscale establishment. One of several he'd visited, he was careful to not to draw unwanted attention and keep his ears open. Some times he was a bumbling drunk, others he was a wary traveler, or a recently fired Professor looking to score drugs.

Tonight he was less intent on finding out information and more focused on drinking. At "The best of Brit & Emerald Isle" that boasted to have the best "authentic" "traditional" Irish And English food and liquor. He was nursing a pint of bitters when a young woman sat down next to him. She was quite overdressed for her surroundings. Much to his personal annoyance she was loudly chattering away on her phone. She waved her hand, long painted fingers glinting even in the low light of the pub. She ended her call as the bartender reached her.

"Hey there handsome..." She said to Eddy behind the bar with a wide smile, before changing her accent from loud American to a smoother Russian in a lower tone. "I'll hav wacka on dee roxs... ehn..." Once again she changed her accent, this time to a distinct Cockney drawl. "...And wat Ee's hav'in." Nodding at Alfred before winking at him. "Oy Eddy, have a pen? Got's ta remember a message, da mates keep rabbiting on about." She was served her drinks then a pen was placed beside them. She brushed Alfred's arm then elbowed him slightly. If she was trying get his attention it was gotten, and if she meant to annoy him she had done smashingly! She began to pretend to write on her palm, speaking under her breath as she did. "Let's see, Sal, Lee, and Kyle wants me to tell, Al, Fred and Penny..." She had Alfred's full attention now. After making brief eye contact she really started to write on her hand. "...worth of the..." Her voice faded to an unintelligible mumble. Alfred wasn't really listening at that point anyway. He was focused on the three words she had written down. 'CAT SENT ME' Shortly followed by '2 MANY EARS PLAY ALONG'.

"That's quiet the interesting accent you have Miss...?" Her eyes light up as she turned her body on her tool so she was brushing her knees against his thigh, which she placed a hand on.

"Please, I' m hardly a Miss lov!" She laughed making her breasts jiggle a little. A good deal of them were exposed. "...They call me Honey."

"That so?" She nodded. "Couldn't get them to stop?" She chuckled, leaning close enough for him to catch the scent of jasmine.

"I'm so sweet, you'll get a toothache! Wanna taste?" She spread her legs suggestively. Alfred coughed and cleared his throat as if he was uncomfortable to hide his eye roll and snort of disbelief. "Come now, tit for tat, what's your name?" Not sure of her game he didn't want to use his name, she seemed to already know who he was.

"Watson..." He said with a reluctant smile.

"You wouldn't be..." She barely blinked as she downed her entire drink of vodka. "...by any chance..." She moved her own pint closer to his. "... a Doctor?"

"In fact, I am." He smiled back as he looked her up and down.

"Watson...the...dishie...doctor..." She was rubbing his thigh in a circular motion, giving him a squeeze with each word. He knew it was pretend, but he was a man of flesh and blood and was starting to be affected by her touch and seductive voice. He was focused on her eyes so not to stare at her modest breasts where they rested high and proud upon chest. However her eyes were distracting as well. They sparkled and glinted, shined and danced. If he didn't known this was all just an act, he would have been flattered, even interested, if she was not so forward and too young for his taste. She was quite fetching, her dark hair was smartly bobbed, her makeup was dramatic without being horrid. And though her dressed was made to draw attention, it was not cheaply made and in many ways tasteful. It was form fitting in the front, the back however reminded him of a Roman Stola. Silver chain stretched between her shoulders held together the swaths of dark blue material that made up the rest of her dress. Another chain ran down the length of her exposed spine. It stopped where the next chain gathered the bottom of her dress below the dimples of he back. From what he could tell the hemline was cut at a dramatic angle. It was most definitely provocative but the closer he studied it, he realized it could have easily cost as much as one of the motorbikes parked outside. Not that this lot would have the faintest idea. He would have leaded towards high class call girl. He'd seen her like at certain Wayne charity functions. If they had met at one of those occasions, he was sure he would be responsible and ultimately turn her down. But...'Damn those eyes...' They were as big and brown as he had ever seen. Framed with long eyelashes and playful freckles painted sporadically across her nose and under her eyes. Where on earth had that miscreant poppet crossed paths with "Honey".

"Hmmmm..." She purred. "I'm a bit peckish, would you care to join me..." She traded her hand with her knee as she moved her hand to his arm. She was all but crawling into his lap. "For a bite?" At the end of her sentence she snapped her teeth like she might bite him. After closing his eyes for a moment and letting out a sigh a switch flipped in his brain. His eyes open and Alfred was 20 years younger and on the prowl. Honey felt as much as she saw the change, it caused a hitch in her breath. Her eyes fluttered at the warmth of his hand that was now resting on Her thigh. The callus on his finger tips sent jolts of pleasure straight through her as he echoed the teasing path she had taken across his body. She gave him a knowing look that might have said 'it's about time you played along...' He answered with his own that said 'you saddled yourself to the wrong bull lass...'

"There's a booth in the corner, that's nice and quiet. Why don't we take our conversation over there." He stood first, offering her his hand to help her down from her tool. She was wearing high heels that came to a dangerous spike. But she moved as easily as he did in his wingtips. He pulled her body against his with one hand, the other handing her their drinks to carry. The one that held her almost cupped her right breast he guided her to the booth he'd suggested. Once they arrive he took their drinks from her hands, placing them on the table. Before he could offer his hand once more she insisted on him sitting first. He scooted back and she quickly followed, entangled herself with his person even quicker. It was hard to keep his senses from filling with the soft, smooth, sweet, heady warmth of her body. When he sipped at his drink Honey began to nibble on his ear. It caused him to inhale sharply through gritted teeth.

"All differences aside, she respects what you've done for him..." She whispered in his ear. "He is safe and has held his own..." He rested his chin against her temple as she nuzzled his neck and shoulder. "...You'll be the first to know if things go bad."

"Is that so?" She grinned before kissing him. She was surprised that he kissed her back, deepening the kiss than roughly pulled away for a short breath and to glare into her eyes. Then kissed her again, it wasn't so much as kiss as a ravishment of her mouth before moving her neck.

"If this is a game, if you're lying to me..." He murmured against her skin while dragging his teeth across the fleshy part of her neck and shoulder. Then bit down hard to emphasize his intent. "If anything hap..." She wrench herself away so she could quite him with her own lips. Causing him to growl in warning.

"The butler hit her..." She looked somewhere between curious and puzzled. "Cat said if I said that you'd know...?" Alfred chuckled darkly. "And one of us has a tail." She whispered in a sing song voice while tugging at the lapels of his jacket. He felt his eyelid twitch. But he wasn't surprised, he'd been reckless, going out 'not looking' after the fight.

He so wanted to believe she was a link to Bruce, but the little minx in his arms could be just a messenger, maybe a friend (If he was lucky) or (More likely) the devil herself. He couldn't help grabbing at her like the straws he'd been grasping at for days.

"Then why don't we go somewhere a little more private, yes...?" He asked quietly as they pulled away from each other. He took a long drink and she straightened her dress. He almost snorted out his beer in disbelief, she was texting on her phone. Only she didn't hit send, just set it back down next to her clutch. The reason dawned on him as he read the 'text'. "The best way to keep them off the scent is to make sure they see us. I suggest we go into some where public-ish and 'shag'. You speak, I moan, I speak, you grunt..." 'God I'm too old for this rubbish.' He inwardly groaned. He tucked her phone into the clutch letting her know he'd received her message. He cleared his throat and spoke up, a little louder than their previous hushed tones.

"Perhaps you'd like to powder your nose lov..."

"Perhaps I would like you to powder me... Loovv-er." She winked and scooted out of the booth just as some loud football fans mixed with some younger men that worked at the nearby docs clambered inside.

'Oy, oy!' Said a young man, bowing as he removed his cap like a pearly king. Then waved it at the bar patrons sitting at the bar before he was pushed forward by the others. By this time both Honey and Alfred had exited booth. However Honey seemed to be the only one noticed. Shrill wolf whistles and cat call filling the room. 'Butcher's hook, Bristol city!' One exclaimed as he nudged his friends. Alfred stiffened at his rudeness. 'Come now crumpet, care ta kick and prance?' Other called to their turned backs.

"You know..." She turned to face them, Alfred following. "I would love to dance. Why don't you lads clear away a table and chairs to give us little room." Two of the young men did just that. While they worked she reached into Alfred's front trousers pocket being as obvious as possible. He looked down at the cheeky young woman with an amused smile. Her hand re-emerged with the change that had been in it. She kissed His neck getting his attention once more, which had shifted to the men making more lewd remarks. He leaned in some Honey took the opportunity to ask him if he knew any ballroom dance.A smug smile spread across his face as he nodded in reply. With that Honey walked over to the music box. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, she was a dancer, not a call girl. She was wearing a Latin dance costume. He felt like a git as she fed the appropriate coin and made her selection. The dark and sensual music of the Argentinean Tango filled the room. Reflecting later Alfred would smile at how suitable, or more accurately how perfect her choice had been. For a moment he had been worried, not that it had been too long, or he might be rusty. It was the striking difference between them.

Whoever said 'it takes to two tango' must have had a word view as deep as a damp napkin. It takes a lifetime of moments, between countless persons, interacting and reacting to one another. The Tango like life is a series of moments. You can not wait or hope for a perfect moment. You must take the moment and make it perfect. The steps that are taught are the palt and tools to create a sculpture that is only visible for a few fleeting moments.

And as they moved his doubt disappeared. She responded to his touch like they had been dancing partners for years. Unlike other steamy Latin dances were the hips move, side to side, front to back. With Argentine tango the hips only swivel, making it more elegant. Giving an added air of dignity and grace to a school of art that is often seen as a vertical expression of a horizontal desire.

Caught in the moment, he forgot Master Bruce, murder, mayhem, Corporate corruptions, and the endless dregs that crawled out of Gotham's underbelly. For a snapshot of a moment he was Alfred was simply dancing with a beautiful Miss...

TBC

Next chapter Victor Zasaz


	3. Black Eyed Susan

Their story was one of obsessions, fixations, the danger and heartaches born from damaged minds and twisted psyche's.

He'd been watching her for days, her appearance had changed in some subtle ways, and more drastically in others. It angered him that it had and at the same time it raised his curiosities. For instance, her hair, she had dyed it to match her eyes. Shades of medium grey to almost white with the slightest hints of purple. That was exceptable, but it was short, he didn't like it short. It was functional for her current occupation at a bakery. It made her look… Mature… all gown up. Was that what bothered him? In most of the memories he had visited the years they had been apart she looked so very young. Now she was in her twenties, no longer a child, no longer too thin, finally her body was one of a woman. She was as beautiful as ever, just different, Still he didn't like it. Espascally the short hair. Even though it was longer then the last time he had seen her. That had been three years ago and by his calculations it could have grown thirty inches. Her hair grew at almost twice the average rate. It reached her waist when they first met, she kept it in braids then. While he had been waiting for her, he passed the time recalling that night, almost ten years ago. He had caught her by one of her braids as he moved to cover her mouth with a clorifrom stained rag. She dropped instantly, faster than she should have. He had barely brought it to her nose. He had contributed it to her physical condition at the time. He barely felt the 13 year old Susan Black's extra weight as he carried her out of Arkcume.

THEN

He had been ordered to collect her to use as leverage against her adoptive parents. They were older and in failing health, they wouldn't withstand questioning long. So she was to be tortured in their sted, if it came to that. Falcone had ordered him to use it only as a last resort.

More often than not being in his toy room started people talking, well begging mostly. But he had a feeling the couple (that were seen as pillars of the community) were tough, callous, and nasty beneath the church going hard candy facade. She had been part of that shiny veneer, until she got sick. Til they just suck her in Arkcume. He knew the type, he had been born into a family just like them. A long familure history of antisocial personalitiy socilpaths. When they all died (inseadently not by his hand) he came to the realization that he wasn't the kind that became a CEO. He'd felt… actually he hadn't felt anything when they died. Well not for them, didn't miss them. He paused to wonder (at the time) why he had sirvived, the obvious being he was more physically fit and obvervent than most. He spent most of his life pushing boundaries finding what little pleasure he could in a world that seemed mostly gray. Still any number of things could have caused his death in the cruise line accident. Well a more permanent death. He was brought back by some boy scout younger than he was.

Dying had been wonderful. He'd Never felt such ecstasy, such Joy and peace, such freedom. As soon as he got his barrings he had attacked the kid then jumped back in the river. He wasn't trying to drown or kill himself, he just wanted to be away from everyone and if he died of exsposer who'd care? But once again he lived. What first came to mind when he woke on the shore was how much better off the world would be if he and everyone else on board were dead and gone. A thought that continued to build upon over the next months. Long story short Victor soon came to the conclusion that it was his destiny, his mission to rid the world of useless filth. Why else would he still be living. Humans… humanity is a joke and a lie, he'd never met one turly worth living. He quickly honed his craft, his murders were masterpieces of enlightenment. Each one recorded in his skin. To keep from boredom dulling the taste of secsuss he expanded quickly, Hitman, torturer ever improving and adding to his repertoire. There was no better place than Gotham to continue his work, his life.

Susan's parents had been pleading ignorance. Laying it on thick, going on and on about how old and feeble they were. How they couldn't be a threat to Falcone… blah blah freaking blah. Having killed plenty of the elderly, he knew how they acted… How they responded to the threat of death and bodily harm. He had never been discriminative about how or who he killed. Though at first he favored a knife or straight razor to a throat. His first kills being homeless persons and a few young woman that came sniffing around for his families sizeable fortune. He didn't target either, they just happened to be around when he was "moody". He poured his money into his craft. ...And gaining the knowledge needed to get away with it… The rest gambled away...

But we must be getting back to Susan!

So there they were, annoying and pathetic, Mrs Black was actually praying when he wheeled little frail looking Susan into the room on the gurny. Instently she began crying and redoubling her efforts in earnest

 _Perhaps they do care about…_ but that thought stopped as soon as he turned his eyes back towards the little girl. She had gotten out of the restraints " _Unexpected"_ Victor said aloud. Even though buckles weren't much to begin with. He should have known better than to trust the aysume's gear. He stepped in front of her to put her in a pare of his leather cuffs but paused at her smile. He knew that smile, it mirrored his own when it was time to play. She winked at him than began convulsing. It was faked, but a very good job, without the wink before hand he would have believed them to be real. She started making ungodly sounds, ending in a low and deep growle. The convulsions stopped, her body contorted into a unhuman shape and froze. Both the Blacks were hysterical by this point. It was a good day when he would get someone to this point without having them loose conscienceness at least once. He silently laughed, she was doing all the work for him. Amused and curious he stepped back and let little Susan do her thing. Her body relaxed, as she sat up her eyes were white, she still had them rolled in and upward. It was a neat trick, really pulled the who exorcist routine together. Mrs Black fainted, her husband promised everything under the sun "Just put her back, just put her back!" Worried he might have a heart attack before the information was gotten Victor picked up the little demon girl. She vallutted off his chest to the ceiling grabbing on to a winch. It looked like she was crawling on the ceiling the way she moved along the beam. Victor followed beneath her, when she stopped her head seemed to twisted to the point of breaking so her blank white eyes would stare down into his darkened by a sickly humor.

"Ehem!" He cleared his throat as he jestured for her to come down. She hissed at him. Causing him to chuckle. "I won't be ask-" before he could finish her limp body dropped. He managed to catch her enough to stop her skull from shattering. Her eyes were half open, big grey and unblinking. She didn't seem to be faking this, totally comatose. "Huh… interesting…" Maybe none of it was an act. Or it all could be, he didn't care, either way she was interesting. She was returned in the end, her parents killed once the information needed was gathered and confirmed. Mr Black had been cheating on accounts, supposedly to pay to keep her in Arkcume. It had effected Falcones bottom end, not exceptable. That money was returned, yet in a twist of fate their combined life insurance policies would pay for Susan's life long care...So... Happy ending.

She walked back willing, to the van, to Arkcume, to the nest in a tiny little cell. Not once had she miss stepped, though passing over gravel and broken glass. Some might watch a captives eyes or face to judge if they are going to try to run. Victor always watched their feet. Her's seemed to always be dancing without letting the rest of her body know. They guided her perfectly, so why should she care. Most of the time her eyes were closed, or dead unblinking. There was a story, a reason why, at the time he didn't care. It wasn't his job to, it wasn't his unholy calling.

Victor didn't think about her again after she was returned. He didn't forget her either, so when he ended up in Arkcume three years later she was one thing he was looking forward to. He soon learned she was rather famous, "Black Eyed Susan" she was called. From the many lobotomies she had been given over the last eight years. Apparently they never worked. Something else that was quite apparent, she had free run of the place. Seemingly to be able to walk through walls, her ability to escape went beyond artistry to pure magic. Dr. Strange kept her there by the cocktail of "medicines" he had her strung out on. It was so complicated she could die if they weren't given on time. In a few locid moments she helped him escape for a price, for him to return and help her escape when she was eighteen. If they hadn't manage to kill her by then. She was sure she would know the rest of the formula by then…

Now

Three months ago he had her move back to Gotham. One morning she received a letter stating she was returning. Her two weeks notice already given, her lease agreement taken care of. Bank accounts switched over. That was how things had always been. Victor took care of it, end of story. He demand complete control of her. What she'd wear, eat, what she would do, where she would go. Or more accurately, not go, not do, not wear. In the beginning she was almost feral, on very bad days she was tied down to keep her from hurting herself. It was his treatment of her that saved her from the purgatory of her mind, as the poison that had been fed to her most of her life worked its way out of her body. He had been her rock and ruler, all consuming, and hand in hand with that consumption was his desperate need for her. As long as he laid claim to her body and soul, she would own just as much of him, forever in his thoughts and what little was left of his own soul. To be clear ownership wasn't something he had taken, it had been given. Within her twisted world behind hospital and insane assylem walls they had never been able to break her. She was not one to go quietly into the night. Never before had he met such a strong will. A cool hum of power, that could blaze the world to ash. She always repaid in kind, wrong doer's ablitterated, merciful and kind blessed with her grace and protection.

Being a stranger to the world on the other side of the metal bars and bullet proof glass she needed him to guide her. Her intuition was spot on. But her reactions had to be tempered to society. A job Victor never would have dreamed of, teaching someone to be less roughtless, to control a blood lust for vengeance….To "play nice".

He had "stepped back" to only observed her as she settled into Gotham once more. Learning her habits, getting a feel for the little changes in her tells.

Yesterday she had killed one of Fish Mooney's men. It was really more like she had done Fish a favor. He was a particularly useless peice of meat. However the way she handled herself got Fish's attention. She had sent Butch with a car and driver to meet her. Victor didn't expect she'd go herself. Just as Butch left, Victor appeared before Fish.

"Fuck!" She half screamed

"No. Tell Butch to forget the girl. No. Me. No. It's good for your health! And No " Fish blinked dumply

"Beg pardon?" her hands moved down from her chest which she had clutched when startled by the Hitman. They now rested on her hips, a mask of control back in place.

"I answered your questions." She looked unimpressed for a woman who could be taking her last breathes.

"I didn't ask any-" Her voice didn't make it sound like a statement or question. It was more like she was trying to remember if she had, or what would warrent Victor Zasaz in her private bathroom. He sighed healvly

"Am I here to kill you- No. Why am i here and what do I want- You to tell Butch to forget about the girl. Is this an order from Flacone- No. Then who wants you to leave the girl alone- Me. Has this anything to do with business or what Falcone wants- No. So why should you do what I say- it's good for your health." He wingled his hairless brows at her. "No, you don't need to know or worry about anything else, or speak to anyone else about this. Excuse me, you have a call to make…" He turned to leave.

"Victor…" He stopped but didn't turn. "If she's one of yours, that's all that needed to be said. I respect yu…"

"NO ONE RESPECTS ME!" He shouted out in a growle. Then continued in a low whisper. "Most fear me, others hate or hunt me. I have no illusions about why I am useful, why I thrive in this festering whole of a city. Why I play apart in the game. Something _YOU_ should know is even the most twisted insane sadist in Arkcume knows you don't fuck around with Black Eyed Susan. She tallorates my company. So constitter this a public service announcement." With his final warning give he disappeared out the door.


End file.
